This Is Madness
by i85
Summary: and this time, it's not in Sparta! No, this takes place in some house in some place, filled with Death Note characters. It makes no sense. Rated T for... stuff. Language, etc etc.
1. Chocolate Sucks

What if the Death Note had never been found? What if the entire Death Note plot could be forgotten? What if all the characters, while seemingly having absolutely no relation with each other, lived together in one house? What if Barack Obama hadn't bought a dog? What if I decided to write something completely and utterly senseless? What if the hotdog had been called the hotcat?

THIS,

IS THE ANSWER

to several of these questions. To keep a sense of suspension I will not reveal which question(s) won't be answered. What's a story without suspension? Very good, a story without suspension of course.

WARNING: This 'story' makes absolutely no sense at all, whatsoever. None. Nada. Zip, zilch, nothing.

LET'S BEGIN.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Mello screamed furiously, hitting Matsuda for no apparent reason, except that he was comfortably within reach of the blonde kid's arm.

"Heey, what did I do to-"

"SHUT UP. Okay, so, my problem..." Mello said, his eyes shooting fire and electro-plasma, "is that SOMEBODY thought it was funny to take the wrappings off ALL OF MY CHOCOLATE BARS!"

He narrowed his eyes at Near, who was sitting in the corner of the room, staring back at Mello with a look on his face which was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike innocence. L sniggered, sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room, in his usual retarded position.

"I'm fairly sure YOU DID IT!" Mello roared, spit flying from his mouth into random directions, showering poor Matsuda, who instantly ran away to the other side of the room and hid behind Light, who was standing next to the window like a pimp. 'Cause that's what he is. A pimp.

"Do you have... evidence?" Near asked in his dry, irresistable voice. Irrestable meaning that it becomes extremely hard not to punch him in the face, balls and left pinky whenever he speaks, just 'cause.

"Er," Mello said.

"Er."

Near waited. L did the snigger again, but nothing happened. Light yawned. Silently, a fly died in a corner.

"No."

A look which looked almost, but not quite, exactly like someone being very successful at hiding their glee, swept across Near's face. "Then I suggest you get working on it, if you really want to know-"

Mello brutally interrupted Near, more spit flying from his mouth, frothing at the corner's of it.

"NO, I WANT SOMEONE PUNISHED NOW!"

A notebook flew through the room much like a falling brick doesn't and hit Mello square in the face, to which L did the snigger again and Matsuda awkwardly laughed out loud. Light, who had thrown the notebook, looked pleased with himself and said, in his pimp voice, "Don't make such a fuss about it. Who cares if the wrappers are off your chocolate? Just eat them, that'll make the problem go away."

Mello, glad with this epiphany, left the room to stuff himself with chocolate. L went back to his knitting (WUTLOL), Near continued stacking dead flies in the corner, Light looked outside, Matsuda looked admiringly at Light, but eventually caught himself doing so and left the room hurriedly, as if he had important business to attend to.

"Hey Light," L said with that voice that makes any fangirl jizz in their pants instantly within 0.34 seconds. "Yes?" Light said, coming closer as L wanted to show him something.

It was a sweater.

L had knitted it himself.

It was horrendous.

"What do you think?" the young man asked the other young man. Light looked at it for a few seconds, and with a strained voice, said: "Do you, eh, want my honest opinion?"

L, in turn, looked at Light for a few seconds and eventually said: "You think it looks terrible, not even like an actual sweater, and it makes your eyes water by just looking at it?"

Slowly, Light nodded, afraid of what was to come next.

Looking back at the sweater, L muttered: "Yes, that's what I thought as well."

Later that night, L and Light had beastly sex, Mello had to be taken to the hospital because of sugar poisoning, Matsuda had to listen to the sound of L and Light having sex, which put a large strain on his sanity, Near ignored it all and continued stacking things, including all of L's horrible sweaters, and Mikami (OH SHIT, YES HE'S HERE) sat giggling in his room while drawing little doodles of children dying.

What a fun place.


	2. Sweets, Sex and Other Strange Things

**A/N: **I don't even know what A/N stands for, but everyone seems to be doing it, so why not? Well, this is, of course, terribly random. Making it up as I go along. I MIGHT try to implement SOMETHING of a storyline or at least a real setting, because up until now it was just too vague. Hell, I'm writing this before writing the chapter. Even I don't know what's coming after this. Hope you enjoy, laugh a bit, all that jazz. Doing it for you, the reader, innit? ;)

By the way, the French are actually really great people. It's just a pity that they're French.

In the universe, there are several things everyone seems to find annoying. Amongst them are obnoxiously loud dogs, gigantic Hummers (such an ironic name. If there's a single thing in life that makes a sound that is the exact opposite of a hum, it's the Hummer), the French, and Near.

Maybe it's because he likes to stack everything, including whatever you're holding in your hands and has sufficient quantity to stack. Maybe it's that he's almost, but not always, right about he what he says. Maybe it's just his appearance, or his voice.

I say it's a combination of all these things.

"Near, would you please let go of that sweater," L said, tired. He tugged at the hideous failure of a piece of clothing, trying to take it from Near's hands. However, the stubborn, white-haired boy did not let go. He didn't even speak. "Near," L said, in a slighlty more authorative tone, but it did not help. He slapped Near with the newspaper he had been reading while knitting, but this only resulted in completely losing his grip on the sweater. Victorious, Near darted away to his corner, filled with stacks of dead flies, dices and paperclips, placing the stolen artifact on the already existing stack of other disastrous sweaters. A single sweater was bad enough, but the sight of so many of them together was enough to make brave men weep, which is exactly what happened when Light entered the room. He tried to hide his tears and succeeded before L could notice.

However, when Matsuda came in, he instantly fainted at the sight of the sweaters. He's just not that much of a brave man.

Nobody was surprised when Mikami strolled into the room and only drooled at the sight of the sweaters. He wasn't really a man at all. The mentally disturbed individual walked over to the kitchen, which was neatly merged with the living room, and slipped a packet of biscuits under his shirt, hoping nobody would notice.

Everyone was looking at Mikami.

They had all seen it.

He looked at them with wide eyes and licked his lips, eventually unleashing a high-pitched noise. Experts on the matter say it may or may not have been a laugh.

"So how's Mello?" Light inquired.

"According to the doctors, he'll pull through," Near replied as L opened his mouth to answer. His lips curled up into a smile as L glared at the boy and threw another sweater at him, which he gladly accepted and put on the pile, enough to draw another tear from Light's eyes. L, having made the sweaters, was naturally completely unaffected.

"Ah," Light said as he dragged Matsuda off to the sofa and dropped him on to it, next to L. Said detective looked at the unconscious young man with interest, poking him with a finger. However, nothing happened, and he quickly lost interest. He threw a longing glance at the kitchen, knocking a pan off the oven as he did so.

I apologise for this terrible pun.

"Light," L said in his sweetest voice. Light looked at L with passion in his eyes, but the romantic moment was shattered by Near who made a gagging noise. Irritated, Light scowled at him, but his eyes widened in surprise as it turned out Near had been choking on one of his paperclips.

Mikami had, by now, sneaked out of the room, continuing his latest series of drawings, this time about flaming buildings. He had already put his dead-children drawings on deviantArt and received mostly positive comments.

This should give you a fair hint about the state of the world.

"Could you get me some sweets?" L asked Light, who instantly set off to do so. Looking at Light's back, L thought about the manipulative power of love and considered using it more often. It turned out to be quite useful.

Near made a mental note not to swallow paperclips again, rubbing his sore throat.

Mello was in the hospital, unconscious, dreaming about- unsurprisingly- chocolate.

Misa Amane was currently sitting on her knees, serving a customer. That's all there is to it. She's a whore. Deal with it! DEAL WITH IT!

Light returned with a platter filled with mostly unidentifiable objects, but each and every one of them looked as sweet as Sherly Temple coated in molten sugar.

"Thank you, Light," L said. Light bended down and the two kissed passionately, Near watching with interest, wondering what the hell they were doing. It looked like they were eating each other's faces off, he decided, and went back to organizing his stacks of objects.

Later that night, L and Light had sex like never before, Near decided to make a stack of the sweets L hadn't eaten, Mikami uploaded his drawings of flaming buildings and horrifyingly mutalited Shirly Temples, Mello woke up briefly and asked for his mother, a good book and a miniature version of Manhattan's sewer system, Misa Amane made loads of money and somebody invented a time machine, but died three seconds later due to a sudden and utterly unexpected meteorite impact, destroying the time machine. Experts on the matter say it was God's divine intervention. In reality, it was just not meant to be. The destruction of the time machine was actually caused by a group of people who fired a meteorite through time, from the future, into our time, to destroy the time machine, who would've otherwise created more and bloodier wars than even the Babel fish. Sometimes, life makes no sense.

Scratch that. Life never makes sense.


	3. The Return of the Mello, and Some Others

**A/N: **Today, I learned that A/N stands for Author's Note (thank you, Vampire Note x3) and now it suddenly makes a lot more sense. I thought it meant Apprehensive Nocternity, or something in that direction. Turns out I was wrong! Can you believe that?

Alright. So, Mello was in the hospital, L and Light just had awesome sex, Mikami, as usual, didn't sleep, but drew more terrible things á la Guro, Misa is just a whore, 'nuff said, and Matsuda was totally KO. Oh yeah, Near did something in his corner, but he eventually went to bed too.

MisaxMikami? LOLOLOL. :3 No, this has nothing to do with the following chapter. I just want your thoughts on it. So, if you review, please tell me what you think of this IMPOSSIBLE pairing.

This is the morning after.

Holding a grudge against everything in the world, L slipped out of bed and fell, ungraciously, on the ground with a loud thud. He wondered who exactly were having a seemingly fantastic rave in his head, but as thinking became too much of a strain, he promptly fell asleep again.

Light just slept.

Matsuda was in the kitchen, humming tuneless nothings while making breakfast for himself. Mikami saundered into the living room and turned to face Matsuda. His mouth slowly unhinged and dropped open, a gurgling sound rising in his throat.

"I take it you want breakfast?" Matsuda asked nervously.

Mikami nodded enthusiastically. He hadn't even considered the possibility of food yet, but it seemed like a damn fine idea now.

Mello woke up again, fully healed from his overload on chocolate.

"No, I don't need to sleep, I don't need rest, STOP TOUCHING ME!" he screamed and punched a doctor square in the face, breaking a few teeth and a nose or two (what?). When a nurse rushed in to help him back into bed, however, his expression changed, and he said in a sleek voice: "You can touch me, though."

Twenty seconds later, he was thrown through the front doors of the hospital and onto the pavement, which suited him fine. Coincidentally, the moment he hit the ground was also the exact same moment L fell out of bed. Not that it matters, though.

He scrambled up from the ground and set off to the house, singing extravagantly and kicking everyone that dared to send strange looks in his direction.

By the time he arrived, Light and L had dragged themselves to the living room and were now stuffing themselves with food, that Matsuda had chivalrously prepared, on the sofa. Both of them stared at the TV. L, having natural bags under his eyes, looked even worse. His hair also seemed to have gotten life on it's own... all in all, he looked almost exactly, but not quite, like Bill from Tokio Hotel.

Quite bad.

Mikami had retreated into his shadowy room with bacon and eggs, fapping to pictures of Sherlock Holmes. Near had decided to sit in his corner again and stacked the food Matsuda had made for him. When Mello barged into the room and demanded ice cream at the top of his lungs- earning him another facebook*- Near looked quite surprised.

"Back already?" he asked.

Mello nodded, unable to speak because of a stuffed mouth and severe brainfreeze. He swallowed, nearly choked, and said: "Yeah, I woke up, feeling quite good. They said something about not eating sugar for a while, but I just wanted to get out of there, ya know? Hospitals suck. The nurses are good though, excpet they don't appreciate groping. Too bad." He shrugged and took another bite of his ice cream- again, Matsuda's doing. He's such a good kid.

* Note: a facebook is not, as you may imagine, something related to .com, but rather face + book, much like face + palm.

The doorbell rang, and Mello jumped up from the sofa (he had sat down on it, after throwing both L and Light off, who instantly gave up and moved to some chairs at the table), sprinting out of the living room and down the hallway, throwing the door open and staring straight into a pair of boobs.

Well... they were covered by clothing, yes, but that couldn't hide them. Slowly, Mello looked up and stared into Kyomi Takada's face.

"Hi, I believe I'm your new roommate!" she squealed, causing Mello to initially flinch, but then grin.

What a cliffhanger!


	4. Oh My, a Filler

**A/N**: So far, I've got 4 reviews! Have to admit, I'm pretty surprised. I expected a great personal struggle and over 9000 chapters before I even got a single review, and all I've done so far is fuck around and write total nonsense... earning me 4. I bet if I had made it a real epic story with a plot more complicated than all of Escher's work together, nobody would've read it. This, once again, proves the longing for simplicity of the human soul.

Sorry for the short(-but-hopefully-sweet-)ness of this chapter. Some random girl I happen to know gave me a really good idea for another new arrival in the house, so this is pretty much a filler and cliffhanger (lolol again? Yes, again). You won't miss out much (maybe a few laughs) if you just scroll down now and read the ending. I don't recommend it, though. I'm not bleddy writing this for nothing. D:

Takada and her melons were accepted into the house without any resistance, but not great enthusiasm either.

Generally.

The only one that really went wild over her was Mello, but it probably had something to do with an unhealthy obession for women and two tits, each larger than his head. I assure you, in real life, this would scare most men shitless.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee perhaps? Maybe some sugar? Or ice-cream? How about some cookies? Cock? I MEAN CAKE." Mello coughed loudly and this earned him his third notebook + face = ouch, once again courtesy of Light and his pimpishness. Takada herself did that weird thing involving closed eyes and a strange giggle only Japanese women are capable of doing which I will not explain in greater detail.

L was, with Light, on the sofa, stroking each other and exchanging looks that would have made the most veteran yaoi fangirl melt and have given Han Solo a heart attack, had he been there to see it. Why Han Solo? Eh, why not? I mean, I could've picked Mr. T, or Chuck Norris, or even Brock (you know, from Pokémon), but Han has just more effect. He's REALLY pimp. Makes Light look like an amateur.

Mikami strolled into the room and promptly curled his long, spider-feet-ish-like fingers around Takada's left bewb, earning him the mother-of-all-bitch-slaps. It sounded like the cracking of a whip and Mikami was pretty much blown off his feet, the imprint of Takada's hand burned into his cheek. It even smoked.

"Woooaahhhhrrrggglluurrrrrr," Mikami said.

"You're disgusting!" Takada exclaimed, tears in her eyes for a not adequately explored reason. Why women start to cry when you sexually harass them is still a mystery to men and the alike... they should put a team of scientists on that, instead of trying to re-create the beginning of the universe and other trivial stuff like that.

Suddenly, without any explanation, Matt burst into the room from where the fuck he had been hiding and screamed on the top of his lungs: "MELLO, WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY GOGGLES?! I KNOW YOU FUCKING HAVE THEM, YOU FUCKER! FUCKING GIVE THEM! NOW! OR... I WILL TAKE OFF ALL THE WRAPPERS OF YOUR CHOCOLATE AGAIN!"


End file.
